Pleasant morning, warm air, porch breakfast...
A garden walk: the day lilies are taking off!
...Even as green is till the dominant color. July will change that, but for now, flowers pop up here and there amidst a sea of green.
In southern France, it is the time of lavender. And just as we track the blooming linden of that region, so, too, we track the lavender!
But very quickly into the morning, the skies cloud over and thunder rumbles. But what is more surprising than the casual summer storm is the sudden dip in temperatures. When I go to pick up Snowdrop, I realize I should have taken along a sweater (she had one at school but it was wet from some class play -- most likely with paints, as I see a suspicious green streak in her hair!).
She doesn't even ask to go for a walk. Smart girl! It's threatening out there! Still, I give her the option of a detour: would you like to go to the library?
Yes!
If I had wondered why one would bother taking a one year old to a library, I surely had an answer today -- because of the numerous early forays here, she is so familiar with our local branch that she runs in with the enthusiasm usually reserved for sandboxes and swimming pools.
And after playing lightly with this toy and the other (none of them especially exciting, perhaps deliberately so, as it is, after all, a place of books rather than toys), she finds a quiet corner...
... and brings me books to read. One after another. I offer help finding ones. No! She wants to do it. You stay there and wait, Gaga.
Perhaps she can decipher the book's content just by looking at the covers because more often than not, she strikes gold. We spend a nice long while going through her selections.
On our way out, she is fascinated by the donation coin toss...
And then, because this is such a favorite thing for her right now, she finds still another comfy chair...
... from which she plunges into a story telling session.
Hand gestures and all.
We come back to the farmhouse, she naps.
Today, the little girl is picked up earlier than usual -- immediately after her nap. This gives me a handful of minutes before dinner to dive into parts of the yard that I consider "second tier." I get to them if and when I can. It isn't that I don't care: I do, but I have to create spheres of management. I work alone on this large tract of land, with Ed helping when there's heavy duty stuff to attend to. I cannot keep everything in perfect order.
As I work, I think how much the farmette land is firmly set in my psyche. I've said this before -- I know how every bit of it behaves during the growing season. For instance, I planted this little bed just a couple of years ago, right in front of the mighty crabapple. Do you see how it thins out toward the front? That's because I added a front layer just this year. It'll take a while for it to get established.
After dinner, Ed and I work some more, chipping the land around the old strawberry patch. And I think -- I've gotten a handle over much of these gardens. It took a half a dozen years, but I am finally satisfied.
I sit at the old picnic table (that came with the property, though it's been much updated by Ed) as Ed puts away the tractor-mower. I look around me. For my own sensibilities it's all so very perfect, the way that nature has partnered with us to create this secret bit of heaven -- how lucky to be part of it all! (I say "secret bit of heaven" because as I've said many times before, few people see it... we do it for the love of the task, for the pleasure in seeing the result after a great effort.)
How very very lucky...
A garden walk: the day lilies are taking off!
...Even as green is till the dominant color. July will change that, but for now, flowers pop up here and there amidst a sea of green.
In southern France, it is the time of lavender. And just as we track the blooming linden of that region, so, too, we track the lavender!
But very quickly into the morning, the skies cloud over and thunder rumbles. But what is more surprising than the casual summer storm is the sudden dip in temperatures. When I go to pick up Snowdrop, I realize I should have taken along a sweater (she had one at school but it was wet from some class play -- most likely with paints, as I see a suspicious green streak in her hair!).
She doesn't even ask to go for a walk. Smart girl! It's threatening out there! Still, I give her the option of a detour: would you like to go to the library?
Yes!
If I had wondered why one would bother taking a one year old to a library, I surely had an answer today -- because of the numerous early forays here, she is so familiar with our local branch that she runs in with the enthusiasm usually reserved for sandboxes and swimming pools.
And after playing lightly with this toy and the other (none of them especially exciting, perhaps deliberately so, as it is, after all, a place of books rather than toys), she finds a quiet corner...
... and brings me books to read. One after another. I offer help finding ones. No! She wants to do it. You stay there and wait, Gaga.
Perhaps she can decipher the book's content just by looking at the covers because more often than not, she strikes gold. We spend a nice long while going through her selections.
On our way out, she is fascinated by the donation coin toss...
And then, because this is such a favorite thing for her right now, she finds still another comfy chair...
... from which she plunges into a story telling session.
Hand gestures and all.
We come back to the farmhouse, she naps.
Today, the little girl is picked up earlier than usual -- immediately after her nap. This gives me a handful of minutes before dinner to dive into parts of the yard that I consider "second tier." I get to them if and when I can. It isn't that I don't care: I do, but I have to create spheres of management. I work alone on this large tract of land, with Ed helping when there's heavy duty stuff to attend to. I cannot keep everything in perfect order.
As I work, I think how much the farmette land is firmly set in my psyche. I've said this before -- I know how every bit of it behaves during the growing season. For instance, I planted this little bed just a couple of years ago, right in front of the mighty crabapple. Do you see how it thins out toward the front? That's because I added a front layer just this year. It'll take a while for it to get established.
After dinner, Ed and I work some more, chipping the land around the old strawberry patch. And I think -- I've gotten a handle over much of these gardens. It took a half a dozen years, but I am finally satisfied.
I sit at the old picnic table (that came with the property, though it's been much updated by Ed) as Ed puts away the tractor-mower. I look around me. For my own sensibilities it's all so very perfect, the way that nature has partnered with us to create this secret bit of heaven -- how lucky to be part of it all! (I say "secret bit of heaven" because as I've said many times before, few people see it... we do it for the love of the task, for the pleasure in seeing the result after a great effort.)
How very very lucky...
